fandomhighdorms | Fighting Reserves: Shooting Range, After Classes

After ~~handwavily~~ letting people know to meet at the shooting range, it was time for the fighty reserves to begin! There were only two leaders at reserves today instead of the usual three. And maybe a little extra in the way of pastries, but that could be blamed on someone not eating so many before they even started.

"Ranged weapons are the topic today. Crossbows, small rocks, guns, a duck--whatever that can be thrown or projected at an opponent in a fight," Maladicta started. Though she was just going to let Kennedy handle the guns, thank you.

...like Kennedy knew anything about guns.

Or throwing ducks. Um.

"Which means we expect you guys to not screw around with the shooty stuff," Kennedy spoke up. "Not that I think most of you would, but just getting that out there. Disclaimers and all that. Anyone who's not so good with the shooty, now's your chance to practice, or pair up with someone who knows what they're doing and learn a thing or two."

A beat, then--

"...also if anyone has any clue when exactly throwing a duck would be useful, speak up. I kind of have to know now."

Duck throwing was a proud Borogravian tradition, thank you! Like starving and living in hovels.

"It would be surprising," Maladicta added kindly. "I'd certainly be surprised by a duck."

Kennedy shrugged. "Okay then!" She indicated the shooting range, and the ~~moddable~~ selection of weaponry laid out for everyone. "So now that you're all spring-break-ed out, go shoot things."

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Have coffee, have a croissant, wonder about the ducks.

Cally would have coffee. Cally would have a croissant.

Cally would not throw ducks.

What.

No.

Alexander was going to have a croissant, but all this talk of ducks made him think of pies, and thinking of pies made him pocket the bread, just in case he needed it later...

Ahem.

Goose had some coffee, bouncing slightly at the idea of getting to shoot things.

Leda now totally wanted to train a flock of attack ducks.

Shoot things, get someone to teach you to shoot things...

Just remember, if you do throw a duck, you're responsible for the cleanup.

This, Cally could do. Rather enjoyed doing, even, and since she'd been thinking she needed the familiarity, she chose a percussion gun instead of an energy one.

Ohhhhh. Okay then. Guess what percussion weapons have that blasters don't? Ow. Shoulder. Ow.

Leda alternated between throwing knives and her 9mm. She was a bit out of practice with the gun, but her aim didn't seem to have suffered too much.

When they ping in!

Kennedy would be happy to hear out hypotheses on strategic uses for duck-throwing, but she'd also be fine with giving people a run-through on the shooty, provided it was the more medieval type of shooty.

"Kennedy, if someone threw a duck at you in a fight," Alexander offered with a faint grin, "you'd be sufficiently confused, wouldn't you? At the very least, the duck is a great diversionary tactic."

"There would be a whole lot of what-the-hell going on, I'll give you that," Kennedy returned easily. A little of the edge had been knocked off her cheer what with the absence of their other leader, but that left her a sufficent amount. "Now I wanna stockpile a whole bunch of rubber ones. If nothing else, the non-fighters can throw 'em."

[[gah, so sorry! work ate me alive today.]]

"I think it's a perfect plan," Alexander said with a chuckle. "Then again, this is coming from the son of a man who defeated a yeti with a custard pie."

"Custard pie is hardcore, that's why," Kennedy replied. "...man, that must make for some interesting family get-together stories."

"It's very rarely a boring family dinner at Daventry Palace, I can assure you of that," Alexander said. "No duck tossing, but that does give me an idea for our next harvest festival."

"Oh god, I apologize to the birds in advance," Kennedy half joked. "Unless they're into it, in which case, who am I to judge?"

"It could be worse," said Alexander. "It could be leprechauns."

They did take possession of the kingdom's magic shield, after all.

"I haven't heard too much about leprechauns," Kennedy said thoughtfully. "Are they really bad news?"

"There's a small kingdom of them that live underneath certain areas of Daventry," Alexander offered. "They're mostly quiet, stay to themselves, and love music, and probably would be much safer to toss than the ogres or trolls or goats."

"Plus, easier on the back," Kennedy noted, refusing to entertain mental images involving cereal with marshmallows. "Though it seems kind of mean to toss them. They sound kinda peaceful."

"Well, they do kill you if you trespass anywhere near their caverns," Alexander pointed out, "and my father had to get one of our kingdom's magic treasures from them. I don't know how they got it, but they didn't exactly give it back..."

"Oh." Kennedy blinked. "Well then. Note to self, avoid leprechaun caverns."

Never mind the cereal; she was now entertaining notions of keeping her precious phone the hell away from those things.

"I swear, every now and then I think I'm over it, but sometimes it still trips me out to hear you guys talk about stuff like that the way my dad bores us to death with business talk."

"Oh, don't worry," Alexander assured Kennedy, "we still have parents who bore us with business talk, too. It's just our business involves more fairies and missing artifacts and leprechauns..."

"See, but that's cool," Kennedy almost whined. "Way more exciting than signing new multi-billion dollar contracts and the latest industry talk from whatever the hell networking thing Dad went to now."

Perhaps it was all a matter of perspective.

"What exactly is the business your father is engaged in?" asked Alexander, tilting his head, because it was a matter of perspective and he felt that whatever answer Kennedy had would be interesting to him.

Kennedy rolled her eyes-- not at the question, but at the vague notion that anyone would think what Dad did was interesting. "He's like, the VP of sales for this major advertising agency? Which-- hey, not complaining, I've had a comfortable life, but that is way too much formalwear for me."

It would just take a large number of ducks for a proper siege...

But Maladicta was perfectly happy to discuss that. As long as she had her coffee.

OH GOD WHY IS IT MARCH ALREADY. HOW. WHAT. I. NO.

Fighting Reserves: Shooting Range, After Classes

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OOC [Reserves, 3/1]